The dull thud of the villa's door closing echoed like a pebble thrown into a deep pool, lingering in the empty living room for a long time.
Yu Jiuyuan remained squatting on the ground, her fingertips unconsciously tracing across the cold floor, touching a sticky, warm spot—splashed ginger soup, almost completely cold.
She could picture Rong Shenghan standing there, splashed with scalding liquid, yet not even flinching, quietly enduring all her anger.
How obedient!
She sneered inwardly, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.
Like a well-trained pet, even when angered by its owner, it will only obediently lower its body, and even its whimpers will have a pleading tone.
But why is she not happy at all?
"Young Miss..." the butler's voice sounded at the door, tinged with a cautious probing, "Should I tidy up this place?"
Yu Jiuyuan suddenly stood up, her movements so fast that her vision went black for a moment.
She steadied herself by holding onto the dining table, her face regaining its usual calm, as if she hadn't been the one who had just lost control of her emotions: "No need, I can do it myself."
The housekeeper hesitated for a moment, then left, leaving her alone in the restaurant.
Looking at the scattered fragments of celadon and pills on the ground, Yu Jiuyuan suddenly felt a bit irritated.
She bent down and picked up the fragments one by one, not noticing that her fingertips were cut by the sharp edges until drops of blood fell on the white floor, blooming into tiny red plum blossoms, at which point she belatedly withdrew her hand.
What is this little pain compared to the dense, dull ache in my heart?
She threw the fragments into the trash can, then picked up the scattered pills one by one and put them back into the small pillbox.
The box was printed with complicated foreign language, and it was a brand she had never seen before. She guessed that it was a special medicine that Rong Shenghan had asked someone to bring back from abroad.
He's so careful even when he's sick, and he always chooses the best medicine, yet he makes himself look so pathetic in front of her.
Yu Jiuyuan gripped the medicine box, her knuckles turning white.
She walked to the window, drew back the curtains, and looked out at the swirling snow.
A clear trail of footprints remained on the snow in front of the villa, stretching all the way to the intersection before being covered by the falling snow and becoming indistinct.
Rong Shenghan was gone, leaving behind her slap mark and that cold "Get out," completely disappearing from the territory she had designated.
very good.
She finally kicked this restless "pawn" out of the game, and could finally regain control of everything, no longer bothered by those damned secrets.
But why... has this villa suddenly become so empty?
The emptiness was so vast that she could hear her own heartbeat, so vast that she could hear the ashes collapsing in the fireplace, so vast that even her breath echoed.
Yu Jiuyuan turned and walked out of the restaurant, going straight upstairs.
She walked into the master bedroom where she and Rong Shenghan had lived. Everything here was still the way it was when he left: the neatly folded quilts, the books on the bedside table, and even the ebony scent he used to have lingered in the air.
She walked to the bedside and sat down, her fingers tracing the sheets.
His warmth still seemed to linger on it, carrying a reassuring comfort.
She used to complain that he took up her space and that his presence was everywhere, but now that he's really gone, she feels that this bed is ridiculously big.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, interrupting her thoughts. It was a message from Xie Zhecheng: [The data is ready. Should I send it over at 3 PM?]
Yu Jiuyuan replied: 【Mm.】
She tossed her phone onto the bed, got up, and walked to the bookshelf.
There were several books on finance and philosophy on the table, all brought by Rong Shenghan.
She randomly picked up a book, opened it, and found a bookmark tucked inside. It was made of dried ginkgo leaves, and the edges were already a bit blackened, indicating that it had been used for a long time.
She remembered the bookmark.
They went for a walk together on the ginkgo path at St. Cherry Blossom Academy. He picked up the most intact leaf, saying he would make it into a bookmark for her. Later, she forgot about it, but little did she know that he had kept it with him all this time.
Yu Jiuyuan held the ginkgo leaf bookmark in her hand, her fingertips trembling slightly.
This man is always like this.
In the most subtle way, he left countless traces in her life, making it impossible for her to completely erase them.
"Hypocritical," she muttered under her breath, tossed the bookmark back into the book, and slammed it shut.
The sound of a car engine came from downstairs. Yu Jiuyuan walked to the window and saw Lin Yanran's car parked in front of the villa.
He was wearing a black down jacket, holding a folder in his hand. He hesitated for a long time in the snow before slowly walking towards the door.
Yu Jiuyuan took a deep breath, straightened her skirt, and went downstairs.
As soon as Lin Yanran entered the living room, she saw Yu Jiuyuan coming down the stairs.
Her face was expressionless, her eyes as calm as a deep pool, but he still keenly sensed that something was wrong. The restaurant floor looked like it had been cleaned, but there were faint dark marks, and... he didn't see Rong Shenghan.
"President," Lin Yanran handed over the folder, "this is the completed report, please take a look."
Yu Jiuyuan took the folder, placed it on the coffee table without even flipping through it, and said, "Just put it there."
Her attitude was too cold; she didn't even bother with the usual admonition.
Lin Yanran became even more suspicious and couldn't help but ask, "Um... where's Rong Shenghan?"
Yu Jiuyuan picked up the black tea handed to her by the butler, took a small sip, and said in a flat tone, "I'm leaving."
"Gone?" Lin Yanran was stunned. "Where did they go?"
"I don't know, and I don't want to know." Yu Jiuyuan put down her teacup, her gaze falling on him with a scrutinizing tone. "You care about him a lot?"
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